


There's something about Thursdays

by See_Kay_Write



Series: NaNo17 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, band au, cameo- Cora Hale, cameo- Erica Reyes, cameo- Laura Hale, coffee shop AU, famous au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/See_Kay_Write/pseuds/See_Kay_Write
Summary: For the tumblr prompt I found:• “ur just a random stranger and i’ve been ranting to you for like 20 minutes about how much i hate this one band but now several groups of people came up to you asking for pics and autographs, and oh shit it turns out you’re in the band i’ve been going on about” auMost people in this situation would be insulted, or at the very least, annoyed by now, Derek reflected absently.  He snuck a glance at his watch, yep, it had been twenty minutes now.





	There's something about Thursdays

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, no profit, nothing to see here
> 
> This is from day 7 of my NaNoWriMo! Have a prompt you'd like me to try this month? Leave it in the comments!

Most people in this situation would be insulted, or at the very least, annoyed by now, Derek reflected absently.  He snuck a glance at his watch, yep, it had been twenty minutes now.  

 

It had started, well, it had started abruptly, Derek realized.  He’d stopped in Full Moon Coffee in part, because the name amused him, but mostly, because it wasn’t Starbucks.  He had zero problems with Starbucks, in fact the more he thought about a caramel mocha the more he wanted one, but going into Starbucks was just asking to be recognized and all he’d really wanted was a nice quiet morning out, with a good cup of coffee and without his sisters pestering him.  He loved them, he did, but they should have thought long and hard about how much they would need to be around each other when they revived and later rebooted their parent’s band, Hale Pack.  

 

Either way, it was a rainy Thursday morning, there were very few people out on the street; pre work rush had left, lunch rush hadn’t even decided on their lunch plans yet.  He loved this time of day.  He was starting to love this coffee shop, even though it was the first time he’d been here.  He’d tucked himself into a corner to people watch while sipping at his drink.  The music was low enough to be calming, not distracting.  The colors were muted and warm, the low lights reflecting up from the highly polished wood floors.  He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to get out of the deeply cushioned chair any time soon, but that was working in his favor because he really didn’t want to get up.  

 

Probably his favorite thing was, that the woman behind the counter had totally recognized him but just handed over the drink without fuss.  He was definitely coming back here.  He’d literally just finished that thought when a faded, jean colored backpack blurred past his vision and dropped into the chair next to his, the one sharing the miniature table.  The one he picked because no one in their right mind ever chose to sit next to a stranger at a table like that.

 

He blinked at the lanky figure that was pulling out a laptop and rummaging around the bag for a cord, which he produced a moment later with a victory fist pump.  He dropped to his knees, scooted around the edge of the chair and plugged the cord into an outlet Derek hadn’t even realized was there.   In a faintly impressive motion, he stood, brushed the much lighter backpack to the floor and sank into the chair, flipping the lid open as he sank down.

 

“Promise to keep the outlet a secret?” the guy asked, barely looking up from coaxing the fairly old looking laptop out of sleep mode, “Erica let me shove the chair over a little to guard it from the College Students.”

 

“You’re not a College Student?” Derek asked dubiously, imitating the emphasis automatically.  He was certainly dressed like a college student, faded Batman graphic tee under a red flannel shirt, jeans that had gotten rips authentically, and a really sad pair of formerly blue converse.  It made Derek feel almost dressed up in his sweater, not-ripped jeans and boots.

 

The guy snorted, “No, writer,” and then flailed for the volume control when an early Hale Pack song suddenly blared out of tinny speakers.  “Oh my god I am never letting Scott borrow my laptop ever again,” he declared, and must of caught Derek’s wince out of the side of his vision, “I know? Right?  Don’t get me wrong, Hale Pack, they’re a lot like Hanson, they both have some good songs, and Hale Pack in particular knows how to do one hell of a bassline, but _oh my god, the lyrics-“_

Twenty minutes later, Derek was trying not to grin out right.  He didn’t have to do anything other than grunt occasionally to show he was still listening.  This guy, he hadn’t stopped talking long enough for Derek to get a word in edgewise, even to ask his name, and already Derek had _three_ new ways he could really mess with his sisters at the next band practice _and_ just about had a chorus and two verses for a new song that was specifically meant to really send his new table partner over the edge with some new rant material.  If he pitched it to Laura and Cora exactly like that, they would both be in, no question.  He pulled a pad of paper from his pocket, just for incidents like this- well not like _this_ exactly, and started scribbling before he lost any of it.

 

He’d just got the last line down when a hand tugged on his sleeve, and he looked down to see a little girl, maybe ten, smiling shyly at him.

 

“Mr. Hale?”  she took a deep breath and plunged ahead,  “Momma said we really weren’t supposed to bother you while you were out but you’re really nice and could I please get an autograph or my friend Maggie will _never_ believe me.”  Her mother, apparently the woman ordering at the counter, hadn’t quite realized that her daughter had escaped.  

 

“What’s your name, sweetie?”  he asked, flipping to a new page in his notebook.

 

Her eyes shown, “Marissa!”

 

He scribbled out a quick note, “To Marissa, always stay curious, it never hurts to ask.  Derek Hale” and handed it to her.  She read it quickly, beamed, and very carefully folded it until it fit in her front shirt pocket.  It looked like she surprised both of them when she suddenly gave him a hug and ran back to stand by her mom.  

 

Suddenly, he realized that the corner next to him had gone quiet.

 

He turned and looked over at his table companion, who was staring at him, open mouthed.

 

“Mr. Hale?” he whispered incredulously, clearly trying not to attract the entire shop’s attention, “Mr. _Derek Hale of Hale Pack?!”_

“One and the same,” Derek grinned.

 

“Oh my _god why didn’t you tell me to shut up,”_ he moaned, “ _Twenty minutes you just let me sit here and rant…”_

Derek grinned wider, “You can start up again if you want.”

 

“Oh my god!” he flailed, and yep, actually did hit his head on the keyboard.

 

“By the way, what’s your name?” Derek asked curiously.

 

“Scott McCall,” he said flatly, “My name is definitely Scott McCall _if you love me at all_.”

 

The man approaching them stopped uncertainly mid step, a drink in each hand, “…Yes, yes you are Scott McCall, which makes me… someone who is not Scott McCall and will not be giving the real Scott McCall his espresso…”

 

“OH MY GOD GIVE ME THAT,” he nearly tackled the man that Derek was incredibly positive actually was in fact named Scott McCall.  Not!Scott won the brief scuffle and regained his seat, holding his hard won prize close to his chest and inhaling the steam.  Miraculously, no drinks nor combatants were harmed in the process.

 

“Should we leave them alone?” Derek staged whispered to definitely!Scott as he dragged another chair to their corner.

 

“Probably for the best,” Scott agreed easily, setting his drink out of retaliation distance.  He leaned over and held a hand out to Derek “I’m…”  his eyes flicked to his friend, who was watching him warily over the rim of his cup and back to Derek, “I’m Stiles Stilinski, nice to meet you.”  They both politely ignored the noise Stiles made as he tried to become one with the chair.

 

“Nice to meet you too,” Derek grinned.


End file.
